


Fair Maidens in Love and War

by Runespoor



Category: Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Gen, Gender politics, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 20:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4975027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runespoor/pseuds/Runespoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night in Lubeck, Aideen comes to Raquesis for a favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fair Maidens in Love and War

**Author's Note:**

> The Ribald Tales continuity is decidedly non-predestined based, and weaves with the game mechanics. In this continuity, Beowulf dies after he and Raquesis have Delmud; Raquesis marries Azel later on.
> 
> Much of the inspiration of this fic comes from me wondering how the Finn+Lana convo even works.

Before Aideen leaves, she finds Raquesis.

Sigurd’s agreed that he should be the one to approach Ayra and Jamka; Aideen has other reasons for wishing to see Raquesis besides seeing to Delmud, that Sigurd wouldn’t think of.

She passes Azel on her way to Raquesis’ rooms, looking so dejected a flutter of nostalgia flits past her, for the long-ago time when just seeing her would make him brighten.

At least Raquesis will be alone; though there’s nothing to say she’ll let Aideen in, if she and Azel sufficiently upset one another.

The door stays stubbornly closed when Aideen knocks, and opens when she calls out, “Raquesis, it’s Aideen.”

A glimpse of Raquesis’ face before she turns away to pack tells her nothing, and Aideen’s attention is caught at once by the mess around them. It's a scene out out of Aideen's daily struggles for order in her own rooms, with her clothing and the baby supplies for Lester and Lana (and Lana's comforter, and Lester's Silesian knitted doll) and her staves to keep track of, and though Shanan's help in looking after the children when he looks after Seliph often comes in invaluable, he's so often in and out of her appartments that inevitably some of his things gets mixed in. Here, most of the baby supplies are replaced with random articles of male clothing strewn around – which surprises her; she'd thought they'd sleep apart. 

It's almost impressive, when they've only reached Lubeck two days ago. And barely a weapon in sight, too; a massively adorned axe resting against the wall like some regal decoration, the hilt of a short sword perhaps poking from under a silky cape, two books in a neat pile, that Aideen’s always told herself she’d get around to teach herself once the children slept through the night, or weren’t sick, or maybe were just a smidge older so they might not need near-constant attention, and somehow never got around to.

Judging from the tiny clothes Aideen can make out spread on the bedding, Raquesis is in the middle of doing Delmud’s pack. It’s a bit silly to cut and sew clothing for a baby who’ll outgrow them in a matter of months, but everyone’s doing the things that make them feel better, right now. Most of the clothing is in deep red hues; befitting a child of the Velthomer line. 

It’s late to be packing her son’s things. Raquesis ever does things her own way.

Aideen’s always liked that about her.

“Don’t tell him anything,” she says. It’s vague even by Church standards, and Raquesis has other _him_ s on her mind. “I mean Finn. Don’t tell him.”

Her back turned, Raquesis drops one last article of clothing, and pulls the strap on the pack shut with finality. Aideen winces. Ah. She inadvertently stepped into it.

She’s all blithe smiles when Raquesis turns to face her.

“Just in case,” she adds.

“Fine,” Raquesis bites back, then blinks; as though she’d prepared for a confrontation, and when Aideen had sidestepped her mind had caught up but not her mouth. “I… Of course.”

Here’s another thing Aideen likes about Raquesis: that she doesn’t push and doesn’t comment when Aideen doesn’t mention Finn and refuses Sigurd’s offer to write to Cuan.

“Promise me?”

Raquesis sighs. “I promise. Finn won’t learn about the children from me.”

“Thank you,” Aideen breathes, exhaling tension she hadn’t known she felt. Her eyes close briefly.

When she opens them, Raquesis’ lips are quirked into a lopsided smirk. “Don’t tell me you’ve been to see everyone and made them promise.”

From her tone, she wouldn’t believe it even if Aideen wanted to lie.

“Sigurd wouldn’t hear of it,” Aideen says, which is both something she’s glad to get off her chest, and neatly avoids the issue.

Raquesis’ eyes harden.

“Yes; I’m not surprised.”

“Neither am I,” Aideen sighs. “But still… sometimes I wish my childhood friend would accept I’m not him and Finn’s not Deirdre.”

Raquesis’ eyes slide to the further side of the bed, where a space big enough for the amchair now encumbering the entrance has been preserved; big enough for a crib. Aideen wonders if they push Delmud’s crib in this room every night, and if so who insists; Azel cares for Raquesis' son more thoroughly than most noblemen bother about the sons they've fathered themselves. Maybe only when the baby’s distressed, but she can’t imagine it’s too often. Even on the road, even when it’s cold or rainy or another child is crying, Raquesis’ son rarely gets upset. Not like Lester, who joins in whenever someone else is upset, or Lana, who never wants to sleep.

“It can be hard, to see things differently,” Raquesis says, in a low voice.

“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say about there being different perspectives,” Aideen says, amused and suddenly fond. Once upon a time, she wouldn’t have voiced it: Raquesis would be offended, or wouldn’t understand. But Aideen’s leaving for Isaach in the morning, and they won’t see each other in a long time, and besides her sister, Raquesis is the woman of the army Aideen has the most in common with right now. 

Raquesis returns her smile, and though there some hardness still lingers, it’s wide and open. “We haven’t talked much.”

“I suppose we haven’t,” Aideen concedes. “Not as much as we could have.”

“A shame.” 

“A bit,” Aideen agrees, and they both laugh a little. “What’s done is done,” and it’s almost a relief, too, to sigh and let it go, before it takes root and becomes a regret. “Are you done with the packing?” 

Raquesis scrunches her nose. “Almost.” She doesn’t like saying so. It’s too close to an admission of things not going entirely her way. “Azel will want to add something of his own.”

Is it a question, or is it an affirmation? Some days, it looks so draining, the constant negotiations that come with raising children as a couple. It’s strange how it never used to bother Aideen when she was alone – then she’d listen to how her father or her brother or the elder clergy’s wanted her to act, and she’d do as she pleased, and no-one had any right to complain, not in truth, not when she was the one being tasked and she couldn’t expect the same in return. When the relationship went only one way, take, take, take, and so long as she did her duty she was the one saying how far it would go. But there’s a give-and-take to two-person parenthood that can’t be ignored. It's a common effort.

She carried them. She gave birth to them. She nursed them, she watched over them when they were asleep, when they were sick. She sang songs patched together from her and Briggid's memories, precious and half-remembered, and she learned which they'd hum along with and which lullaby would serve its purpose. She was their first word and she was there when they called Sigurd the same thing Seliph did. Her children are hers; they've become hers. 

Finn’s very far, and when he left she pretended not to see he didn’t know how to speak about marriage, pretended not to see him quietly give up on asking. He was a boy and they were at war, she told herself. And she didn’t want to tie him up in another bond willingly taken, opposite to the one he was following back to Lenster. 

They made no promises when they parted. Ehtlyn had looked from Aideen to Finn and back to Aideen, silently surprised they didn’t kiss, but they’d made their private good-byes already. Aideen had already known a public gesture would have to be as betrothed, or not at all.

Now they’re still at war, and Finn’s loyal to Cuan and Lenster, and they’re not part of each other’s life anymore.

“Will you ask Azel for me?”

“About Finn and the children? I will ask. I can’t promise he’ll listen.” Raquesis shakes her head. “He only does what he wants.” 

Not something Aideen ever considered; though the remark does explain the arguments. Raquesis sounds perversely, impossibly pleased.

“I can’t ask for more but…” Azel’s priorities are stranger to her than Raquesis’. Aideen may disagree with Raquesis’ choice to marry him, but she can understand her circumstances, when Beowulf's death had left Raquesis not even a widow and Delmud a bastard.

“Oh, I _will_ try,” Raquesis assures her.

“Good enough for me!”

Raquesis rolls her eyes. “We’ll have time to talk about it, anyway. We’re not going to Lenster.”

Whether Raquesis or Raquesis and Azel would go to Lenster has been the subject of much discussion. They’ve all heard the rumors about Eltoshan’s son and his mother’s sickness. They’ve all seen Raquesis’ growing concern.

“You’re not?”

“Not right away. We’ll go after we’ve settled this.”

_This_. Sigurd being branded a traitor, his companions with him. The treason of Lords Reptor and Langobalt, Claude of Edda’s exile, Prince Kurth’s assassination. The murders of her father and Lord Byron. 

Are those even things that can be _settled_?

“I’ll take good care of Delmud, until you and his father return,” she tells Raquesis as parting words.


End file.
